Just one night
by Enochianess
Summary: "Just one night." Mickey panted, his lips feverish as they pressed to Ian's cheek, his jaw, his neck, his clavicle. "One night." Ian repeated.


Mickey didn't know what he was doing there. Out of all places, why the hell did he have to wind up there?

He pounded on the door with his fist.

"Mickey?" Fiona said uncertainly, her eyebrows furrowed. Her hair was tied messily on top of her head, curly tendrils falling into her eyes, and she had soap suds up to her elbows.

Mickey glanced around awkwardly. He didn't know what he was doing there. Of all places. Of all places.

"What the fuck happened?" She demanded. She looked him up and down.

"You should see the other guy." He mumbled as he brushed past her and immediately headed for the stairs.

"He won't speak to you Mickey! He's not been out of bed for three days." She called after him.

Mickey ignored her.

It was dark in the bedroom, but Ian's body was illuminated by the hazy moonlight. The idiot hadn't even bothered to close the damn curtains.

He stripped down to his vest and boxers and slid beneath the covers behind Ian. He pressed his lips softly to the nape of his neck, one arm reaching round to pull at his chest until they were flush against one another. He couldn't help but smile at the way Ian jolted beneath the touch, the way he immediately relaxed as if in relief when he realized who it was.

"Mickey." He breathed softly, one hand stretching behind to grab at Mickey's hair, pulling him closer.

"Yeah." Mickey sighed in reply.

He couldn't help but smooth his hand down Ian's chest and stomach, his fingertips running lightly along the skin above his waistband.

Ian whined. He rolled over awkwardly until they were face to face, immediately leaning forward to press their mouths together.

It became fast and heavy and desperate in a flash. Mickey moaned into Ian's mouth and clutched at his arms tightly enough to bruise.

"Just one night." Mickey panted, his lips feverish as they pressed to Ian's cheek, his jaw, his neck, his clavicle.

"One night." Ian repeated.

Ian pushed Mickey on to his back and was quick to slide on top of him. He brushed his fingertips gently over Mickey's bloody face, his eyes wide with concern and scanning swiftly over the damage. Worried. Always worried over his broken, screwed up, ghetto boyfriend. No, _ex-boyfriend._

Mickey whimpered, his face flushing under Ian's loving scrutiny. There was something about Ian that broke him down, opened him up, made it impossible to hide. He felt stripped naked in more ways than one, frighteningly vulnerable, achingly desperate for the comfort Ian's hold always brought.

"What happened?" Ian whispered, his lips pressing gentle kisses over Mickey's bashed up face, his hands running soothingly up and down his sides.

"What do you think fucking happened?" Mickey snapped, but his gaze was soft, his voice void of the usual bite it carried when he spoke to anyone else. "Got in a fight."

"Mandy said that's been happening a lot recently."

"It's none of her fucking business."

"Is it because of me? Because of us?" Ian asked hesitantly.

Mickey huffed. "Do you want to get on me or would you rather sit here and talk feelings and shit?"

Ian paused, hovering above him for a moment. Mickey waited with baited breath, desperately hoping he hadn't just fucked this up.

A broken moan fell from Mickey's lips as Ian bit down hard on his neck and ground against him instinctively. Mickey fisted at Ian's messy hair and arched up into the warmth of his body, his other hand squeezing his ass to encourage him in his movements.

"Get this shit off." Ian murmured as he tugged at Mickey's shirt. "Come on. Come on. Come on."

They were quick to undress themselves, their eyes following the other raptly as more bare skin was revealed.

They crashed back together, their mouths opening and their tongues tangling. Ian pushed Mickey forcefully until he flailed backwards and fell on his back. Their eyes locked for a moment, Ian's hands roaming over Mickey's bruised torso. He smirked at the way Mickey's breath hitched when he pressed his thumb over his nipple.

Mickey shook his head, his eyes squeezed closed and his mouth open as Ian began to stroke him fast and hard. A litany of Ian's name fell unknowingly from his lips.

Ian shushed him when he paused his ministrations to reach for the lube he kept hidden beneath his bed. Mickey wiggled impatiently.

Ian folded Mickey's legs, pressing against his thighs until he was folded in half like a human pretzel. He pressed their mouths together hotly, nipping and licking at his lips as he traced his other hand down between Mickey's legs until he was brushing over his hole. Mickey pushed his hips down against Ian's lubricated fingers, silently demanding more. Ian was more than happy to oblige, pushing one in all the way, cursing at the way Mickey gasped and tightened around the single digit. He was quick to add a second and a third, gently scissoring his fingers until Mickey was stretched and wet and open.

"I swear to God Gallagher, if you don't get in me right now I'm going to fucking combust." Mickey panted, his hands knotting in Ian's hair and yanking him up to kiss him.

"Okay. Okay." Ian huffed in reply. "Give me a sec."

He coated his dick quickly in the cold lube, shuddering against the feeling of his grasp, and then leant down and lined himself up. He hovered tantalising at Mickey's entrance, laughing at the stern glower Mickey gave him, before gently breaching him. He watched with satisfaction as Mickey's face relaxed, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Fuck." Ian muttered as he bottomed out. He paused for a moment, revelling in the feeling of being deep inside Mickey. He had missed this. Fuck he had missed this so fucking much.

"Move." Mickey pleaded. "Fucking move."

With a grunt, Ian pulled slowly back out and ploughed back in. Mickey grappled at his back, his nails cutting deep into the muscle there. He snapped his hips, faster and faster, harder and harder, with each stroke. The bed frame smacked against the wall, the bedsprings creaking in time to their moans.

It didn't take long for Ian to completely lose it. He braced himself with a hand beside Mickey's head to hold him up and slid the other down between them to tug at Mickey, his hand instantly slick with pre-come. It only took a couple of slides of his hand and Mickey was arching up, his teeth biting down on Ian's bottom lip until Ian could taste blood, and coming so hard he saw stars.

Mickey clamped down on Ian like a vice and dragged him over the edge with him, panting and digging crescent-shaped marks into Mickey's hips.

"I love you." He whispered as he collapsed down on top of him.

Mickey ran his hands up and down Ian's back, biting the inside of his cheek to stave off the tears he could feel burning in his eyes.

 _It was just one night._ He tried to remind himself.

One night.

One night.

Fuck, it would never be just one night.


End file.
